DAUGHTERS  OF  DAWN 

A  LYRICAL  PAGEANT 

BLISS  CARMAN  AND 
MARY  PERRY  KING 


UC-NRLF 


$B    lb?    3ST 


DAUGHTERS  OF  DAWN 


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in  2007  with  funding  from 

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DAUGHTERS  OF  DAWN 

A  LYRICAL  PAGEANT 

OR  SERIES  OF  HISTORIC  SCENES 

FOR  PRESENTATION  WITH 

MUSIC  AND  DANCING 

BY 

BLISS  CARMAN  AND 
MARY  PERRY  KING 

WITH  FIFTEEN  ILLUSTRATIONS 


'-'-What  cannot  he  said  can  he  sung^ 
What  cannot  he  sung  can  he  danced r 


® 


NEW  YORK 
MITCHELL  KENNERLEY 

1913 


Copyright  I^IJ  by 
Mitchell  Kennerley 


The  dramatic  rights  for  acting  and 
reading  of  Daughters  of  Dawn^  to- 
gether with  its  music,  stage  directions 
and  costume  specifications  for  acting  and 
for  reading,  illustrated  by  tableaux 
vivantSy  may  be  had  of  the  authors, 
There  are  also  lantern-slide  illustra- 
tions that  may  be  used  together  with 
music  to  accompany  readings  from  the 
Pageant, 


Press  of  J.  J.  Little  &  Ives  Company 

East  Twenty-fourth  Street 

New  York 


TO   HENRIETTA   HOVEY 

friTH  HOMAGE  AND  AFFECTION 

IN  HAPPr  APPRECIATION   OF  HER   SERVICE 

TO    THE   CAUSE    OF  ART 


9 

3 


DS^ 


259858 


INTRODUCTION 

IN  rereading  one  of  Edward  Carpenter's 
wise  books  the  other  day  I  came  upon 
the  following  suggestive  passages,  which 
express  very  well  the  thought  underlying  the 
Daughters  of  Dawn: 

"Far  back  out  of  the  brows  of  Greek 
goddess,  and  Sibyl,  and  Norse  and  Ger- 
man seeress  and  prophetess,  over  all  this 
petty  civilization  look  the  grand  untamed 
eyes  of  a  primal  woman  the  equal  and  the 
mate  of  man;  and  In  sad  plight  should  we 
be  If  we  might  not  already,  lighting  up 
the  horizon  from  East  and  West  and 
South  and  North,  discern  the  answering 
looks  of  those  newcomers  who,  as  the  pe- 
riod of  women's  enslavement  Is  passing 
away,  send  glances  of  recognition  across 
the  ages  to  their  elder  sisters." 

**The  Greek  goddesses  look  down  and 
across  the  ages  to  the  very  outposts 
beyond  civilization;  and  already  from 
America,    Australasia,    Africa,    Norway, 

V 


VI  INTRODUCTION 


Russia,  as  even  in  our  midst  from  those 
who  have  crossed  the  border-line  of  all 
class  and  caste,  glance  forth  the  features 
of  a  grander  type — fearless  and  untamed 
— the  primal  merging  into  the  future 
Woman;  who  *  *  *  -^m  help  us  to 
undo  the  bonds  of  death  which  encircle 
the  present  society,  and  open  the  doors  to 
a  new  and  a  wider  life." 

Daughters  of  Dawn,  literally  written  in 
collaboration,  was  originally  planned  by  Mrs. 
King  to  serve  as  a  series  of  studies  in  her 
new  educational  movement,  in  which  the  three 
rhythmic  arts,  poetry,  music,  and  dancing,  or 
interpretive  motion,  are  combined  for  artistic 
and  cultural  purposes.  Even  if  I  had  origi- 
nated such  a  work  and  been  rash  enough  to 
begin  it  alone,  I  could  not  unaided  have  given 
It  anything  like  its  present  effectiveness,  verac- 
ity, and  conciseness,  nor  many  of  the  beauties 
of  thought  and  expression  which  I  am  glad  to 
think  it  possesses.  As  there  appeared  to  be 
no  more  appropriate  name  for  dances  or  small 
motion  dramas  of  this  sort,  in  which  the  in- 
terpretation of  the  spoken  verse  is  furthered 


INTRODUCTION  VU 

simultaneously  by  adapted  music  and  rhythmic 
motion  which  may  or  may  not  include  dancing, 
we  have  been  calling  them  Rhythmics. 

Of  the  great  company  of  illustrious  women 
of  the  ages,  many  others  might  also  have  been 
chosen  for  such  a  work.  These  Daughters  of 
Dawn  were  selected  as  typical  chiefly  of  the 
liberal  and  beneficent  power  of  woman's  na- 
ture in  her  leadership  and  ascendancy  in  the 
life  of  the  spirit  and  the  destiny  of  the  world. 
Selection  was  made  of  episodes  lyrical  rather 
than  dramatic  in  feeling  and  significance,  as 
most  readily  lending  themselves  to  lyric  treat- 
ment in  verse,  music,  and  motion. 

Our  best  thanks  are  due  to  friends  for  gen- 
erous aid  in  creating  the  various  roles — to 
Miss  Irmgard  von  Rottenthal  for  her  poetic 
study  of  Eve,  to  Miss  Hedwig  Reicher  for  her 
masterly  studies  of  Deborah  and  Balkis,  to 
Miss  Mirzah  Chesllr  for  her  studies  of  Sappho 
and  a  truly  wonderful  Mary,  to  Miss  Ray 
Cohen  for  her  exquisite  interpretation  of  Izeyl, 
to  Mrs.  Bayard  Redfield  for  her  fine  concep- 
tion of  Zenobia,  to  Miss  Dorothy  Dean  for 
her  most  adequate  Jeanne  d'Arc,  and  to  Miss 


Vlll  INTRODUCTION 


Gertrude  Lynch  for  her  very  gracious  ren- 
dering of  Vittoria  Colonna.  Our  grateful  ac- 
knowledgments belong  also  to  Mr.  B.  J.  Falk, 
who  brought  the  interest  of  an  old  friend  and 
the  painstaking  skill  of  an  artist  to  the  making 
of  the  photographic  studies  from  which  the  il- 
lustrations are  taken. 

The  writing  of  the  various  scenes,  prologues, 
and  choruses,  and  the  selection  and  arrange- 
ment of  the  costumes,  involved  painstaking  to 
insure  their  historic  accuracy  and  consistency, 
so  far  as  might  be.  In  the  different  meters 
used  in  the  dialogues  an  attempt  has  been  made 
to  secure  in  each  case  a  verse  form  expression- 
ally  appropriate  to  the  scene.  These  are  but 
working  considerations,  but  they  may  prove  of 
service  to  students  who  may  wish  to  use  the 
Pageant  at  any  time. 

B.    C. 

New  Canaan,  Connecticut, 
October,  19 12. 


OPENING  PROLOGUE 

AND 

CHORUS 


persons  in  the  prologues  and  choruses 

Time 
A  Poet 


DAUGHTERS   OF   DAWN 


DAUGHTERS  OF  DAWN 

As  the  curtain  rises  on  a  front  scene  Time 
and  A  Poet  enter  from  the  left.  Time  walks 
a  little  in  advance  of  his  companion  and  moV' 
ing  toward  the  centre  of  the  stage  delivers  the 
prologue. 

Opening  Prologue 

In    the    crystal    sphere    of    time    that    swings 

through  space 
All  loveliness  survives.     Each  ardent  grace, 
Joyance,  and  noble  passion,  leaves  its  trace 
Imperishable  there. 

And  he  who  gazes  In  that  magic  glass 
May  see  the  pageant  of  the  ages  pass, 
Vivid  and  glad  and  glorious  as  It  was, 
In  its  great  hours  of  flare. 

In  scarlet  tatters  and  in  webs  of  gold. 
Heroic  ecstasies  and  dramas  old, 
Their  core  of  wisdom  and  high  glamour  hold, 
To  bid  men  choose  and  dare. 


4  DAUGHTERS   OF   DAWN 

PFith  the  conclusion  of  his  speech,  Time 
passes  on  across  the  stage  to  exit  at  the  right. 
Music  at  once  takes  up  the  theme  of  the  pro- 
logue and  leads  iwto  the  theme  of  the  lyric 
chorus.  As  it  ceases,  the  chorus  follows, 
spoken  by  the  Poet,  who  does  not  move  far 
from  his  place  of  entrance. 

Opening  Chorus 

Who  are  these  who  pass  by 
With  victorious  mien, 
Deathless  light  in  the  eye, 
Fadeless  glory  and  sheen 
In   their  mystical   beauty   and  bearing;,   their 
power  to  bless  or  to  ban? 

These  are  they  who  aspired 
And  were  wise  in  their  day, 
Daring  all  they  desired 
Through  din  and  dismay. 
To  foster  the  hope  and  the  vision, — their  share 
in  the  infinite  plan. 

They  dreamed  and  endured 
To  bring  gladness  to  birth. 


DAUGHTERS   OF   DAWN 


That  joy  might  be  lured 
From  the  sorrow  of  earth, 
For  the  making  of  ever  new  Edens,  to  perfect 
what  creation  began. 

They  cherished  the  spark; 
They  protected  the  flame 
From  the  winds  and  the  dark; 
To  them  the  word  came; 
Their  bodies  were  altars  of  love,  and  their 
faith  was  the  rapture  of  man. 

Whether  beauty  and  truth 
Were  the  stars  of  their  power. 
Or  the  ardor  of  youth. 
Or  the  pride  of  the  hour, 
They   broldered   the    banners    they    followed, 
while  the  sands  of  the  hour-glass  ran. 

So  from  age  unto  age 
Their  beauty  shall  glow, 
To  brighten  the  page 
Of  earth's  warfare  and  woe, 
As  the  stars  In  the  arches  of  heaven  illumine 
the  darkness  they  span. 


DAUGHTERS   OF   DAWN 


At  the  conclusion  of  this  chorus  the  Poet 
retires,  and  music  follows  with  a  glorifica- 
tion of  the  general  theme  of  the  Pageant. 

The  same  procedure  is  followed  at  the  be- 
ginning of  the  various  scenes.  Time  speaking 
the  prologues,  and  the  Poet  reciting  the  lyric 
choruses, — with  only  this  difference,  that  at  the 
close  of  each  chorus  the  curtain  rises  immedi- 
ately, disclosing  a  realization  of  the  Poet's  vi- 
sion, while  the  speaker  makes  his  exit  with  eyes 
on  the  scene  or  remains  half -concealed  near 
his  place  of  entrance,  as  an  onlooker. 


t 

EVE 


persons  in  the  scene 

.    Eve 
Adam 


'>c     c    r  f  ;    *. 


c  i    Sc    c 


'*'^''         '^.A/^     .     / 


EVE 


DAUGHTERS   OF   DAWN 


EVE 

Prologue 

Lone  in  the  strangeness  of  a  dim  new  world, 
Untutored,  unbefrlended,  alien,  man 
Moved  to  his  destiny  of  perilous  power 
Between  his  ecstasies  of  hope  and  fear. 
And  wonder  was  upon  him,  and  desire. 

His  strength  was  spent  on  rock  and  tree  in 

vain ; 
His  running  reached  no  goal  but  loneliness; 
Silent  derision  waited  on  his  toll; 
And  ever  the  world-sorrow  bore  him  down, 
His  great  heart  beaten  by  futility. 

Then  on  a  morning  after  monstrous  storm, 
A  spirit  whispered  through  the  great  dumb 

blue, 
And  there  emerged  among  the  gentle  hills, 
Loving,  humane,  mysterious,  the  form 
Of  beauty  made  in  likeness  of  his  dream. 

Music 


lo  daughters  of  dawn 

Chorus 

Who  IS  this  ardor-paled 
O'er  her  blood's  coral  stain, 
Veiled  as  mountains  are  veiled 
In  a  mist  of  blue  rain? 
She  is  fair  as  the  great  winter  moonlight,  and 
frail  as  Aprlllan  flowers. 

In  her  eyes  there  are  gleams 
Of  the  sun  and  the  sea. 
And  unfathomed  dreams 
Of  the  ages  to  be ; 
Her  beauty  and  wind-shod  exulting  take  little 
account  of  the  hours. 

She  moves  like  the  drifts 
Of  fog  on  the  tide. 
Or  the  faint  smoke  that  lifts 
From  the  purple  hillside ; 
And  men  at  her  beauty  shall  wonder,  while 
wonder  and  beauty  abide. 

She  fears  not  the  portal 
Of  life  nor  of  death; 


DAUGHTERS   OF  DAWN  II 

She  is  tender  and  mortal 
And  subtle  as  breath; 
And  her  voice  Is  the  call  of  the  ages  that  quick- 
ens this  substance  of  ours. 

Her  love  is  a  thing 
Without  hate  or  regret, 
Yet  In  twilights  of  spring 
Will  her  eyelids  be  wet 
With  strange  immemorial  sorrow.    She  is  Eve 
of  the  mystical  powers. 

A  wooded  glade  in  Paradise.  A  running 
stream  through  a  meadow.  The  sea  line  in  the 
distance.  Birds,  butterflies,  flowers,  and  crea- 
tures. Morning  sunlight.  Eve  appears  among 
the  trees,  and  accompanies  her  soliloquy  with 
primitive  expressive  motion.  At  its  close  Adam 
is  seen  through  the  trees,  and  speaks. 

Eve 

Dear  life  I     Earth  and  sun  and  sea-line  I 
Shadowy  woods  and  shining  river! 
Flowers  and  meadows  fresh  with  morning, 
Calling  birds  that  sway  and  flutter, 
Soaring  glad  and  free  I 


12  DAUGHTERS  OF  DAWN 

What  Is  all  this  wonder  round  me, 
With  Its  ravishing  enchantment? 
The  leaves  whisper;  the  grey  water 
Murmurs  to  the  blue  day;  all  things 
Promise  more  and  more. 

And  this  mist  of  gold  about  me? 

Running    and    seeing    her    reflection    in    the 

stream 
I  am  swift  .  .  .  and  light  .  .  .  and  comely. 
Like  the  birds,  I  call.    Come,  wander 
Like  the  creatures  I    What  am  I,  and 

What  are  these  to  me? 

Lovely  sun,  shine  warm  upon  me ! 
Unseen  wind,  come  and  caress  me ! 
Good  earth,  kiss  my  feet  and  take  me 
On  long  journeys,  day  and  night-time, 
Gladly  everywhere. 

Nothing  answers  to  my  calling! 
Nothing  solaces  my  longing! 
Why  are  all  things  unresponding? 
Why  Is  all  my  being  lonely? 
Is  this  Paradise? 


DAUGHTERS   OF  DAWN  1 3 

Through  the  shadows  there's  a  shadow 
Coming.    Through  the  trees  I  see  him  .  .  . 
Like  me  .  .  .  stronger!     Ah,  his  presence 
Makes  me  gladder,  gladder,  gladder  .  .  . 
What  am  I  to  thee? 

Adam 
Have  I  not  imaged  thy  face 
Out  of  the  sunrise  and  dreams? 
Have  I  not  sought  thy  trace. 
Through  the  spring  woods  and  streams? 
The  print  in  the  vanishing  dew, 
The  call  that  died  on  the  air, 
Lured  me  ever  anew, 
But  never  thyself  was  there. 

I  stretched  forth  hands  to  the  sun, 

I  breathed  my  prayer  through  the  rain, 

I  called  to  the  clouds  that  run; 

They  answered  me  not  again. 

I  have  heard  at  the  world's  far  edge 

The  great  winds  boom  and  moan; 

I  have  harked  to  the  whispering  sedge; 

But  they  spoke  in  a  tongue  unknown. 

And  ever  the  throbbing  ache 
Beat  in  my  throat  and  side,: — 


14  DAUGHTERS  OF  DAWN 

The  hunger  I  could  not  slake, 
The  craving  that  would  not  bide ; 
And  ever  the  gleaming  choice 
Drew  me  forth  on  the  trail, 
Where  never  a  kindred  voice 
Answered  my  desolate  hail. 

Thy  glistening  bosom  swells 

In  the  light  of  thy  wondrous  hair, 

Like  a  sunlit  hilltop  that  tells 

The  watcher  day  is  there. 

The  croon  of  thy  voice  like  the  wind, 

The  sway  of  thy  body  like  fire. 

The  glory  of  man  shall  bind 

To  the  soul  of  thy  desire. 

Here  let  the  sun  stand  still, 
The  wandering  stream  be  stayed, 
The  shadow  rest  on  the  hill, 
The  wind  play  low  in  the  glade  I 
For  I  have  found  Paradise, 
And  dread  has  lost  its  power. 
Here  let  the  great  moon  rise 
On  an  enchanted  hour ! 

Curtain  and  Music 


II 

DEBORAH 
Twelfth  Century  B.  C. 


PERSONS   IN  THE   SCENE 

Deborah 

Barak 

Captains  and  Chief  Men  of  Israel 


AND  GOD  SAID,  *I  HAVE  SEEN  THE 
OPPRESSION'" 


DAUGHTERS   OF   DAWN  17 


DEBORAH 

Prologue 

The  ages  pass,  and  with  enormous  wars, 
Sorrows  and  triumphs  and  enduring  toll, 
The  earth-child  Man  puts  off  his  savagery, 
And  with  the  growing  wisdom  of  the  earth 
Learns  law  and  artistry  and  paths  to  power. 

He  builds  In  Egypt  mammoth  pyramids; 

In  Babylon  his  gilded  temples  rise; 

Till   strength  and  beauty  fill  his  heart  with 

pride. 
Then  comes  a  nomad  people  with  their  tents, 
Dreamers  and  wanderers  with  flocks  and  herds. 

Captive,  oppressed,  arrogant  and  unsubdued, 
Forever  cherishing  their  racial  dream. 
Out  of  the  desert,  seeking  pasturage. 
To  the  rich  valleys  of  the  West  they  come, — 
The  tribes  of  Israel  to  their  promised  land. 

Music 


1 8  daughters  of  dawn 

Chorus 

What  prophetess  stands, 
With  God's  fire  in  her  eyes 
And  His  love  in  her  hands, 
As  she  signals  and  cries 
The  word  that  shall   summon  her  people  to 
turn  back  a  tyrannous  might? 

In  beauty  austere, 
With  her  hood  half  withdrawn. 
She  is  straight  as  a  spear. 
Or  a  shaft  of  the  dawn. 
When  it  flushes  the  cedars  of  Kedron,   and 
floods  the  dark  valleys  with  light. 

Her  voice  has  the  spell 
Of  the  wind  and  the  rain. 
She  sways  with  the  swell 
Of  the  ripe-breasted  grain. 
When  summer  is  red  in  the  valleys  and  his 
fervors  are  fierce  on  the  plain. 

To  the  South  and  the  North, 
Fleet  runners  light-shod 


DAUGHTERS  OF   DAWN  1 9 

At  her  bidding  went  forth 
With  the  war-cry  of  God 
That  should  kindle  the  hearts  of  the  tribes  as 
a  watch-fire  kindles  the  night. 

Let  princes  give  heed 
And  their  kingdoms  make  way, 
When  a  woman  at  need 
Goes  down  to  the  fray! 
For  Deborah,  rousing  a  nation,  the  God  of  her 
fathers  will  fight. 

Outside  the  tent  of  Deborah  in  Mount 
Ephraim  between  Ramah  and  Bethel.  A  run- 
ning brook  is  near  by.  Other  tents  and  distant 
hills  are  seen.  Deborah  stands  under  a  palm 
tree  in  front  of  her  door;  before  her,  chief  men 
of  Israel,  including  Barak  the  son  of  Abinoam 
from  Kedesh-N aphtali  in  the  North, 

Deborah 

O  captains  and  chiefs  of  Zebulon, 
And  rulers  of  Naphtall,  hear! 
And  Barak  son  of  Abinoam, 
Thou  warrior-leader,  draw  near! 


20  DAUGHTERS   OF  DAWN 

What  the  Lord  God  of  Israel  speaketh 
By  the  palm  tree  In  Ramah  this  day, 
By  the  mouth  of  Deborah  His  servant, 
lYe  shall  hearken  unto  and  obey. 

For  the  voice  of  the  Lord  in  the  morning, 
Before  the  first  sun  took  the  dew 
From  the  valleys  and  ridges  of  Hermon, — 
While   the    peaks   of   the   East   were    still 

blue, — 
Came  to  me,  as  I  stood  In  the  tent-door 
Thinking  on  Israel's  wrong. 
And  God  said,  "I  have  seen  the  oppression. 
But  behold,  it  shall  not  be  for  long. 

*'Send  thou  to  Kedesh  for  Barak, 

And  bid  him  unsheath  the  sword 

Against  the  outrage  of  Jabln. 

And  I  will  prosper  my  word." 

Who  halted  the  sun  over  Gibeon, 

The  moon  above  Ajalon's  plain? 

Who  strengthened  the  ox-goad  of  Shamgar, 

By  whom  the  six  hundred  were  slain? 

So  shall  ye  prevail  against  evil. 
Their  chariots  of  Iron  shall  flee. 


DEBORAH 


DAUGHTERS  OF   DAWN  21 

The  floods  shall  break  them  in  pieces 

And  roll  them  into  the  sea. 

The  vineyards  and  fields  of  these  Gentiles 

Shall  be  added  unto  your  lands, 

For  the  stars  In  their  courses  shall  aid  you 

And  deliver  them  into  your  hands. 

Go,  get  you  up  to  the  mountains, 
Let  ten  thousand  follow  your  feet. 
And  I  will  make  ready  the  captive, 
For  the  day  Is  at  hand.    Be  fleet. 

There  is  a  star  in  the  crowd, 
O  Barak,  who  makest  the  torches 
In  the  temple  at  Shiloh  to  shine, 
Wilt  thou  not  carry  the  fire 
To  free  thy  people  and  mine? 

Have  I  stood  here  for  judgment  and  council 

And  prophesied  truly,  in  vain? 

Are  my  words  but  as  wind  of  the  desert, 

My  talk  but  as  running  of  rain? 

Is  there  none  to  accomplish  my  vision? 

Is  there  none  to  believe  what  I  see? 

Am  I  a  babbler  of  Baal? 

O  Barak,  what  am  I  to  thee? 


22  daughters  of  dawn 

Barak 

O  Deborah,  for  judgment 
The  tribes  come  up  to  thee, 
The  tents  all  know  thy  wisdom 
From  Jordan  to  the  sea. 
In  the  hills  thy  name  is  spoken, 
By  the  rivers  It  Is  heard. 
The  captains  seek  thy  counsel, 
The  wayward  heed  thy  word. 

And  when  I  set  the  torches 
To  light  the  Holy  Place, 
They  pale  as  I  remember 
The  glory  of  thy  face. 
But  three  days  since  at  sunrise 
Did  thy  messenger  draw  nigh 
Breathless  before  the  doorway, 
To  seek  me.    Here  am  I. 

In  the  light  of  this  thy  counsel, 
What  shall  thy  servant  do. 
But  carry  the  dread  summons 
To  raise  the  tribes  anew? 


DAUGHTERS   OF   DAWN  23 

As  thy  soul  lives,  among  them 
The  word  of  God  shall  pass, 
As  fire  among  the  stubble. 
As  wind  among  the  grass, 

Only  if  thou  go  with  me  I 
Else  here  I  will  abide. 
I  have  nor  hope  nor  portion 
That  Is  not  by  thy  side. 
Mine  Is  the  strength  to  conquer, 
And  mine  the  skill  of  hand. 
But  not  the  inward  knowledge 
To  see  and  understand. 

Then  take  thy  staff  and  mantle. 
Make  fast  thy  sandal-thong, 
For  thou  shalt  teach  me  wisdom. 
And  I  will  make  thee  strong. 
Deborah  makes  a  sign  of  assent. 
O  peerless  among  women. 
There  is  no  other  way 
Since  God  In  the  beginning 
Breathed  spirit  into  clay. 

Here  a  religious  dance  begins.  The  multi- 
tude grows,  and  forms  behind  Deborah  and 
Barak  for  final  exit. 


24  DAUGHTERS   OF  DAWN 

So  go  we  up  before  Him 
To  the  hills,  ten  thousand  strong 
And  I  will  lead  the  fighting, 
And  thou  shalt  lift  the  song. 
The  ages  shall  remember, 
When  we  are  plunged  in  night, 
How  Deborah  and  Barak 
Did  battle  for  the  Light. 

Curtain  and  Music 


Ill 

BALKIS 
Tenth  Century  B.  C. 


PERSONS   IN  THE   SCENE 

Balkis,  Queen  of  Sheba 
Solomon,  King  of  Israel 
Musicians  and  Attendants 


26 


ec      •   •  _  •    i    •  / 
»    »     •   c ,    c     ,» •  • 


BALKIS 


DAUGHTERS   OF   DAWN  27 

BALKIS 

Prologue 

Egypt,  Assyria,  Chaldaea  pass 

Across  the  world's  great  stage  from  dark  to 

dark. 
With  sound  of  drum  and  flash  of  marching 

spears, 
Amid  the  stumbling  outcries  of  the  poor. 
And  all  the  splendid  pomp  of  barbarous  kings ; 

While  Israel,  cleaving  to  her  lofty  faith 
In  one  pure  God  of  justice  and  of  right. 
Is  scorned  and  driven  on,  beaten  and  bruised 
Under  the  harrow  of  the  conqueror's  hate; 
Through  centuries  of  carnage,  lust,  and  gloom. 

Till  from  that  turmoil,  as  from  evil  dreams, 
In  Judah  rose  a  king,  humanely  wise 
Above  all  men.    And  Rulers  of  the  Dusk, 
In  their  far  countries  hearing  of  the  Light, 
Up  to  Jerusalem  In  wonder  came. 

Music 


28  DAUGHTERS  OF  DAWN 


Chorus 

In  crimson  and  gold 
By  the  ivory  throne, 
Who  IS  she  who  makes  bold, 
With  a  pride  all  her  own, 
To  prove  with  hard  questions  the  wisdom  that 
fame  has  made  first  in  the  land? 

As  the  twelve  lions  gaze 
And  the  thurifers  swing. 
She  stands  in  amaze 
Before  the  great  king. 
And  her  strength  is  as  water,  beholding  his 
splendor  and  knowledge  expand. 

Her  walk  has  the  sway 
Of  a  sea  in  the  wind, — 
The  strong  supple  play 
Of  a  panther  of  Ind, — 
The  magic  of  might  is  about  her;  her  sorcery 
who  shall  withstand! 

By  the  long  camel  trains 
Bearing  gifts  above  price. 


DAUGHTERS  OF  DAWN  29 

All  the  wealth  of  the  plains, 
Silver,  algum  and  spice. 
And  purple   and   gold  without  measure,   and 
peacocks,  and  pearls  by  the  strand, — 

By  her  garments  all  bright. 
By  her  gems  from  Kanaugh, 
Her  luxurious  height. 
And  her  swarthy  low  brow. 
It  IS  Balkis,  dark  Queen  of  Sheba.     By  the 
ring  it  is  Solomon's  hand. 

Wooded  grounds  outside  of  Solomon's  pal- 
ace. The  Queen  of  Sheba*s  musicians  and  at- 
tendants  enter  playing,  walking  backward. 
As  Balkis  enters  from  the  palace,  after  her 
meeting  with  Solomon,  she  beckons  them  im- 
patiently to  precede  her.  They  go  of  quickly, 
leaving  her  alone. 

Balkis 

King,  I,  Balkis,  Queen  of  Sheba,  came  to  greet 

thee  from  afar, — 
Feel  thy  sway  and  know  thy  wisdom  and  thy 

splendor  as  they  are. 


30  DAUGHTERS   OF   DAWN 

All  the  unmatched  wealth  and  glory  of  thy 

House  I  would  behold; 
And  I  brought  thee  royal  treasure,  gems  and 

frankincense  and  gold. 

But  an  overpowering  grandeur  and  a  strange 
unearthly  lore 

That  surround  thee,  have  undone  me  with  a 
spell  unknown  before. 

Whence  are  they?  And  how  should  any  mor- 
tal being  so  outshine 

Pomp  and  pride  and  power  of  armies — all 
earth's  riches — his  or  mine? 

Where  Is  all  my  strong  assurance  which  the 

desert  knew  in  fear? 
What  befell  my  proven  knowledge  keen  as  a 

dividing  spear? 
Am  I  a  fond  girl  before  him,  hand  to  tremble, 

cheek  to  pale. 
That  his  speech  should  shake  my  heartstrings 

like  a  palm  grove  In  a  gale? 

Great  Earth,  give  me  back  my  courage  I  Desert 

wind  and  sun,  renew 
The  wild  strength  of  heart  that  made  me  as 

unquestioning  as  you  I 


GREATKING.   WHAT  AM   I   TO  THEE?' 


DAUGHTERS   OF   DAWN  3 1 

Has  that  sorcery  departed,  with  Its  soft  relent- 
less skill, 

That  could  sway  the  blood  of  princes  till  they 
bowed  before  my  will? 

No  more  I  For  my  tyranny  Is  vanquished.  All 
I  was,  is  naught. 

Like  the  play  of  pampered  children  seem  the 
ends  for  which  I  wrought. 

All  my  trappings  and  my  triumphs  are  as  fag- 
gots without  flame. 

Like  a  road  from  night  to  morning  seems  the 
way  by  which  I  came. 

Life  beyond  me,  take  my  homage,  as  the  sun 

drinks  from  the  stream! 
Light  of  God  beyond  my  learning,  teach  one 

who  has  caught  thy  gleam  I 
As  the  day  consumes  the  desert,  as  the  strong 

wind  bends  the  tree. 
Lord  of  Light,  thou  hast  enslaved  me !    Great 

King  I    What  am  I  to  thee  ? 

Balkis  goes  out  slowly  following  after  her 
train  of  attendants  and  retainers.  As  she  dis- 
appears, palace  music  is  heard  and  Solomon's 
musicians    enter   playing,    walking    backward. 


32  DAUGHTERS   OF   DAWN 

The  King  enters  speaking,  and  dismisses  his 
attendants  with  a  gesture, 

Solomon 

0  Balkis,  Queen  of  thy  kind,  I  must  find  thee 

again. 

1  have  sought  in  the  sound  of  the  flute  and  the 

harpstring  In  vain 
The  enchantment  that  lurks  in  thy  voice  for  the 

stirring  of  man! 
No  fire  of  gems  like  thine  eyes,  no  dye  like  thy 

tan  I 

What  gives  thee  thy  lustre,  like  amber  aglow 
with  old  wine? 

What  perfume  of  cedar,  of  sunshine  and  sum- 
mer is  thine? 

The  palpitant  sense  of  thy  presence  is  still  on 
the  air. 

My  fir-trees  have  caught  the  blue  shadows  that 
lurk  in  thy  hair. 

Who  taught  thee   that  sibylline   quiet  which 

teases  my  power. 
As  the  strength  of  soft  winds  the  ocean  uplifts 

in  an  hour? 


DAUGHTERS   OF   DAWN  33 

Thy  leonine  courage,  thy  query  that  throbs  to 

the  mark, 
Are  fires  of  new  revelation,  enkindling  the  dark. 

Thy  gifts  hold  the   glamour  of  giving  that 

dwells  in  thy  hand; 
Thy  tribute  no  kingship  could  merit;  stay  thou 

In  our  land! 
My  realm  Is  a  desert  without  thee  to  set  it 

abloom ; 
My  skill  is  but  dull,  since  It  caught  not  thy  wit 

in  Its  loom. 

Come,  give  me  thine  ardor  that  leaps  from  the 

lip  to  the  heart  I 
Come,  teach  me  the  tremor  of  eyelids  where 

tears  wait  to  start  I 
Come,  tell  me  the  word  that  was  spoken  when 

Lucifer  fell! 
There  is  naught  at  the  source  of  dominion  thou 

knowest  not  well. 

At  the  end  of  his  soliloquy  Solomon  goes 
out,  following  the  direction  taken  by  Balkis. 

Curtain  and  Music 


IV 

SAPPHO 

Sixth  Century  B.  C. 


PERSONS   IN  THE   SCENE 


Sappho 

Phaon 

Atthis 

Anactoria 

Gyrinna 

GORGO 
DiCA 

Telesippa 

Mnasidica 

Myrto 

Lais 

Myrtocleia 

Bacchis 

Chrysis 


Friends  of  Sappho 


''     c  c"^    r    '-,"         '    c  .«!  t'-'c  "r* 


SAPPHO 


DAUGHTERS  OF  DAWN  37 

SAPPHO 

Prologue 

While  Israel  cringed  to  dread  Omnipotence, 
And  dwelt  In  fear  of  the  unspoken  name; 
While  priests  of  Egypt  pondered  on  the  past, 
And  Nineveh  was  sinking  to  her  doom; 
The  day  was  spreading  on  the  iEgean  sea, 

Where  white-sailed  Tyrlan  coasters  plied  with 

trade, 
And  glad  young  Hellas  hailed  the  wakening 

light. 
There    beyond    marble    cliffs    where    jonquils 

grew. 
Were  rosy  porticos  and  temples  dim 
With  mellow  Ivory  and  dusky  gold. 

Her  gardens  odorous  with  hyacinth. 
Her  river-beds  ablaze  with  pomegranate. 
Her  groves  of  laurel  spreading  In  the  sun, — ? 
There  like  a  tulip  where  the  flame  of  life 
Burns  quick  and  clear,  bloomed  Lesbos  of  the 
Isles. 

Music 


38  daughters  of  dawn 

Chorus 

Who  IS  this  with  life-thirst 
In  her  luminous  eyes, — 
Whose  rapture  unnursed 
Burns  quickly  and  dies, 
As  the  dew  burned  away  from  the  morning 
leaves  only  the  color  and  fire? 

She  is  vibrant  and  warm 
As  a  meadow  at  noon; 
She  Is  lonely  as  storm, 
Or  the  cloud-salllng  moon; 
She  is  glad  as  new  friendship  unbroken,  and 
sad  as  old  loves  that  expire. 

She  Is  swift  as  a  thrush, 
The  noiseless  of  wing, 
When  the  damp  woodlands  gush 
With  his  lyric  of  spring. 
She  dances  like  small  meadow  rivers  that  run 
through  the  twilight  and  sing. 

This  is  Sappho.     Men  gave 
To  new-minted  gold 


DAUGHTERS   OF   DAWN  39 

Her  image  to  save 
For  the  peoples  untold, 
That  her  beauty  might  ever  companion   the 
echoing  chords  of  her  lyre. 

Though  all  lovely  things 
To  the  dust  shall  be  traced, 
And  the  names  of  great  kings 
From  their  tombs  be  effaced. 
Her  name  shall  be  fresh  through  the  ages  as 
Spring  rains  on  the  ruins  of  Tyre. 

The  garden  of  Sappho's  house  in  Lesbos^ 
with  marble  benches,  a  green  space,  borders  of 
daffodils,  hyacinths,  violets  and  other  spring 
flowers.  The  sea  and  the  harbor  of  Mytilene 
in  the  distance.  A  wall  at  the  foot  of  the  gar- 
den, with  a  gate  into  the  street.  The  house  is 
of  white  marble,  with  a  low  doorstep  on  a  level 
with  the  ground.    It  is  afternoon. 

Enter  from  another  pant  of  the  garden 
Atthis,  Anactoria,  Gyrinna,  Gorgo,  Dica, 
Telesippa,  Mnasidica,  Myrto,  Lais,  Myr- 
TOCLEiA,  BAcchis,  and  Chrysis,  friends  of 
Sappho. 


40  daughters  of  dawn 

Anactoria 
How  warm  the  new  sun  is  I 

Chrysis 

Surely  it  is  full  time 
To  honor  our  Adonis  I 

Dica 

Where  is  Sappho? 

Atthis 

Sappho  I 

They  all  call  in  unison. 

Sappho !     Sappho !     Sappho ! 

Enter  Sappho  from  the  house. 

Sappho 

Sweet  friends!     Has  the  sunshine 
Lit  thoughts  of  Adonis 
In  your  lovely  heads? 

Bring  thy  lute,  Gyrlnna! 
Dica,  bring  thy  garlands ! 
And  thy  golden  jonquils, 


DAUGHTERS   OF   DAWN  4 1 

Chrysis  I     Myrtoclela, 
Dance  here  at  my  left  hand  I 
Thou  here,  dearest  Atthlsl 
Myrto  shall  be  chorus, 
With  her  silver  voice. 

Anactorla,  thou 
Ardentest  of  lovers — 

(Anactoria  embraces  her) 
Thy  sweet  call  would  waken 
The  sleepiest  Adonis! 
Oh,  these  happy  hours 
Of  the  spring  In  Lesbos! 
Surely  he  must  harken 
To  our  chorus  now. 
They  dance,  joining  in  the  refrain  of  Myrto's 
Hymn  to  Adonis. 

Now  the  winter  Is  gone  by. 
And  the  swallow  builds  again, 

(Lovely  Adonis!) 
Now  the  quickening  sun  is  warm, 
And  the  wind  Is  soft  with  rain. 

(Lovely  Adonis!) 


42  DAUGHTERS   OF  DAWN 

Now  the  waking  earth  is  sweet 
With  the  scent  of  purple  flowers. 

(Thou  sweet  Adonis!) 
All  the  buds  are  opening  wide, 
Wasting  through  the  golden  hours. 

(Thou  fond  Adonis!) 

Now  the  nightingales  are  come, 
With  their  piercing  flutes  of  gold; 

(Beloved  Adonis!) 
And  thy  lovers  cry  to  thee, 
In  their  passion,  as  of  old. 

(Cruel  Adonis!) 

Call  him  back  across  the  years  I 
He  is  fairer  than  the  day. 

(Hear  us,  Adonis!) 
Love,  ah,  love, — Is  anything 
Half  so  sweet,  for  all  men  say? 

(Harken,  Adonis!) 

Fling  his  robe  of  frost  aside. 
And  his  bands  of  sleep  unbind  I 
(Waken,  Adonis!) 


DAUGHTERS   OF   DAWN  43 

Were  they  lovelier  long  ago, 
Those  who  loved  thee — or  more  kind? 
(Love  us,  Adonis  I) 

Cherish  him  with  tender  fire 
In  the  woodlands  of  the  spring, 

(Deathless  Adonis  I) 
And  with  him  assuage  desire. 
Ah,  Is  love  so  fleet  a  thing? 

(Lovely  Adonis  I) 

Street  music  is  heard. 

Chrysis 

Hark,  a  tambourine  I 

Atthis 

The  street  musicians  I 

Anactoria 

That's  the  boy  from  NaxosI     O  the  darling  I 
Do  you  love  him,  DIca, — or  the  dark  one 
With  the  captive  woodbird?    He  Is  thine. 

Chrysis 
They  are  moving  on  now. 


44  daughters  of  dawn 

Anactoria 

Let  us  follow  I 

They  run  of,  laughing.  When  they  are  gone, 
Sappho  sits  on  a  bench,  beginning  to  be 
sad.     The  afternoon  is  waning, 

Sappho 

Ah,  me !  .  .  .  May  Adonis 

Find  them!  .  .  .  This  soft  spring  wind 

Makes  my  fillet  heavy. 

She  loosens  her  hair. 
Thou  dear  swallow  flashing 
Over  Mytllene, 
Art  thou  never  weary 
All  the  blinding  day  long 
In  our  Northern  blue? 

She  sings 

If  death  be  good, 

Why  do  the  gods  not  die  ? 

If  life  be  ill, 

Why  do  the  gods  still  live  ? 


DAUGHTERS   OF   DAWN  45 

If  love  be  naught, 

Why  do  the  gods  still  love  ? 

If  love  be  all, 

What  should  men  do  but  love? 

What  a  thing  Is  woman 
In  this  world!    All  music, 
Ecstasy,  and  dreaming. 
With  her  gems  and  garlands. 
Gauze  and  gold!     All  dancing, 
And  bright  laughter,  bubbling 
Like  a  silver  fountain 
Out  of  the  dark  earth  I 

And  her  friendships, — stories 
Told  to  amuse  children  I 
Shadows  that  fly  seaward  I 
All  the  while  her  heart  aches 
Only  with  one  longing. 
One  demand  .  .  .  O  Phaon, 
Thou  art  so  long  absent 
From  this  empty  world  I 

In  just  such  lovely  weather 
He  would  come  with  evening. 
To  sit  here  all  happy  .  .  . 


46  DAUGHTERS   OF   DAWN 

I  could  hear  him  far  off 

In  the  fragrant  twilight, 

{A  flute  is  heard  in  the  distance) 

Ere  he  crossed  the  meadow. 

The  playing  grows  more  distinct. 

O,  praise  Aphrodite! 

Phaon! 

Enter  Phaon. 

Phaon !     Phaon I 
What  am  I  to  thee? 

Phaon 
O  my  Sappho  I     Heart  of  gladness, 
What  should  thy  soul  do  with  sorrow? 
See,  I  bring  thee  gems  from  Egypt, 
Phrygian  linen  white  as  sea-foam, 

Scarlet  cloth  from  Tyre; 
Eastern  perfumes,  and  a  girdle 
Of  wrought  gold  from  ancient  Sidon. 
Not  a  port  but  has  paid  tribute 
To  thy  beauty,  in  the  sea-bales 

They  unlade  for  thee. 

Sappho 
Only  one  gift  have  the  high  gods  given 
To  man,  Phaon,  without  stint  or  question, 
As  my  heart  knows, — love. 


DAUGHTERS   OF   DAWN  47 

Thou  art  all  my  Egypt  and  my  SIdon. 
Earth  and  sea  have  paid  me  their  full  tribute, 
If  thou  love  me  still. 

Phaon 

Sappho,  not  an  isle  from  Rhodes  to  Imbros, 
Not   a   pine-dark  headland  where   the   foam 

breaks, 
But  has  heard  the  prayers  and  eager  vows  I 

whispered 
Day  and  night  for  thee. 

When  I  walked  through  splendid  sunlit  cities, 
My  lone  heart  was  traversing  a  desert, 
And  the  murmuring  throngs  were  but  as  mov- 
ing sand-drifts, 
Sappho,  without  thee. 

Nevermore,  till  the  dread  hour  shall  part  us, 
May  I  be  beyond  thy  call,  thy  hand-touch  I 
Thou  art  all   about  me  like  the  sweet  dusk 
wheeling 
Up  from  the  great  sea. 

They  go  into  the  house.    Night  is  falling. 
Curtain  and  Music 


V 

IZEYL 
Fifth  Century  B.  C. 


49 


PERSONS   IN  THE   SCENE 
IZEYL 

Buddha 

A  Man-servant  of  Izeyl 

Two  Disciples  of  Buddha. 

Attendants  and  House  Servants  of  Izeyl 


50 


IZEYL 


DAUGHTERS   OF   DAWN  5 1 


IZEYL 

Prologue 

The  Himalayas,  Dwellings  of  the  Snow, 
Look  down  on  all  the  fertile  Ganges  plain, 
Where,  spreading  like  a  flood  from  high  Pamir 
Seeking  new  land,  the  Aryan  drift  went  by, 
Singing  glad  Vedas  while  the  world  was  young. 

Then  rose  the  priestly  Brahman  over  them 
With  bonds  of  caste,  stern  ritual  and  rule, 
The  sterile  rites  and  dull  formalities. 
That  would  enslave  the  incarnate  soul  of  man 
And  blight  the  progress  of  a  growing  world. 

Here,  having  pity  for  the  plight  of  men 

And  all  their  futile  agonies  of  life. 

Came  Buddha,  the  Enlightened  in  the  Way, 

Preaching  Renunciation  of  Desire, 

The  only  surety  of  an  earthly  peace. 

Music 


52  daughters  of  dawn 

Chorus 

Who  stands  In  the  dusk 
Of  the  courtesan's  square, 
With  an  odor  of  musk 
In  her  bosom  and  hair, 
With  anklets  of  turquoise  and  silver  that  clink 
for  the  passer  to  hear? 

Mysterious  as  night, 
With  her  hot  scarlet  mouth, 
And  a  glittering  light 
In  those  eyes  of  the  South, 
As  if  all  of  her  exquisite  being  had  never  one 
hunger  to  fear! 

She  moves  like  the  smoke. 
As  it  swoons  on  still  air. 
When  the  censers  evoke 
Old  gods  from  their  lair; 
The  sway  of  her  body  is  music  more  madden- 
ing than  incense  or  prayer. 

The  desire  of  the  heart. 
The  delight  of  the  eye, 


DAUGHTERS   OF  DAWN  53 

She  knows  not  apart, 
To  forego  nor  deny, 
For  love  Is  the  sum  of  her  being,  and  beauty  Is 
all  of  her  gear. 


Ah,  fear  her  not  I    Hers 

Is  that  passion  of  soul 
Which  no  height  deters, 
No  terrors  control, — 
Izeyl,  the  enamored  of  Buddha,  who  waits  for 
her  god  to  draw  near. 

The  courtyard  in  front  of  Izeyl's  house  in 
the  Deer  Forest  north  of  Benares.  A  large 
rug  is  spread  iri  the  centre  of  the  court,  a  low 
divan  at  one  side,  with  small  tables  or  benches 
near  it.  On  the  opposite  side,  a  wall  and  gate- 
way, the  main  entrance  to  the  grounds.  It  is 
moonlight.  Servants  enter  carrying  silver 
dishes  of  rice,  fruits,  and  confections,  basins 
and  jugs  of  water,  towels,  etc,  and  set  them 
down  on  the  tables  and  the  ground.  Izeyl  with 
two  attendants  enters  from  the  house. 


54  DAUGHTERS   OF   DAWN 

IZEYL 

Make  all  ready.    Let  there  be  nothing  lacking 

nor  amiss. 
Though  we  have  had  many  guests,  there  was 

never  one  like  this. 
A  man  servant  enters  from  the  gate,  followed 

by    Buddha   and    two    disciples    who    ap- 
proach and  how  to  Izeyl. 
Welcome,  O  enlightened  one,  to  this  house.    A 

happy  day 
Brings  thy  footsteps  to  my  door,  bids  thee  tarry 

on  thy  way. 
Lets  me  serve  thee.    That  my  lord's  heart  with 

gladness  may  be  free, 
Rest  here  in  the  perfumed  dusk  of  the  roses 

strewn  for  thee. 

Buddha 

Thy  words  are  lavish  as  the  wayside  stars, 
Shedding  their  bounty  for  the  pilgrim  night. 
No  goodlier  seeds  than  kindness  come  to  blos- 
som 
In  this  great  world  to  be  faint  heart's  delight. 


DAUGHTERS   OF  DAWN  55 

Servants  wait  upon  Buddha,  remove  his  san- 
dals, wash  the  dust  from  his  feet,  offer  him 
food  and  drink.  He  takes  a  cup  of  water, 
but  declines  to  eat.  His  disciples  withdraw 
to  a  distant  part  of  the  court.  The  serv- 
ants go  out,  except  Izeyl's  two  personal  at- 
tendants, who  stand  hack  by  the  house 
door. 


IZEYL 

Sit,  Lord.  I  will  dance  for  thee.  Here  until 
the  moon  grows  pale 

Thou  shalt  be  the  worshipped  one,  I  thy  wor- 
shipper Izeyl. 

She  prepares  to  dance.  The  dance  is  one  of 
the  ancient  dramatic  dances  of  India,  It 
portrays  the  first  glimpse  of  the  beloved, 
embarrassment,  infatuation,  coquetry,  en- 
ticement, and  the  overtures  of  love.  It 
then  becomes  more  reckless  in  its  sorceries, 
while  the  beloved  still  seems  obdurate.  The 
dance  next  betrays  jealousy,  anger,  and 
finally  melting  sorrow  and  surrender. 


^6  DAUGHTERS   OF   DAWN 

Now  the  play  Is  Love.     It  moves  like  a  wind 

among  the  trees, 
Woman's  drama  of  the  soul,  with  mysterious 

melodies. 
Fear  as  faltering  as  night,  desire  Imperious  as 

day, 
Hold  Love  at  their  mystic  height,  till  wild  joy 

must  have  Its  way. 
Love  Is  water  for  thy  thirst,  Love  Is  honey  for 

thy  mouth. 
Is  thy  being  never  faint  In  a  land  of  parching 

drouth? 
Loose  the  girdle  from  her  breast  and  the  lotus 

from  her  hair! 
Take  her,  for  sweet  life  or  death!     Is  there 

anyone  more  fair? 
She  dances,  and  at  the  conclusion  of  her  dance 

falls  at  Buddha's  feet. 
Lo,  my  beauty  at  thy  feet,  and  my  hand  upon 

thy  knee, 
In  despair  of  love  I  lay.    Buddha,  what  am  I 

to  thee? 
Buddha  puts  out  his  hand  and  touches  her,  as 

she    remains    seated    near    him    on    the 

ground. 


SIT,  LORD,  I  WILL  DANCE  FOR  THEE' 


daughters  of  dawn  57 

Buddha 

Thou  art  all  beauty,  glowing  sense  and  spirit, 
The  world's  supremest  splendor  and  desire. 
Thou  art  the  flower-like  joy,  the  flame-like  pas- 
sion 
Whose  breath  consumes  men  with   relentless 

fire. 
Thou  art  the  subtle  unforgotten  fragrance 
That  haunts  this  life  with  an  assuaging  power, 
And  would  beguile  the  soul  upon  her  journey. 
To  deify  one  perishable  hour. 

But  I,  compelled  by  sorrow  for  men's  warfare 
Against  their  bonds  upon  the  wheel  of  life. 
Through  sore  compassion  found  the  Great  Re- 
nouncement 
The  only  strength  to  stay  the  ravenous  strife. 
Crave  nothing!    But  in  kindness  with  rejoicing 
Follow  the  common  highway  unto  peace. 
There  only  can  survive  the  flower  of  wisdom, 
There  only  can  serene  love  find  release. 

Whoso  is  tranquil,  diligent,  undaunted. 
Not  overcome  with  riches  nor  with  cares. 
Free  from  all  anger,  arrogance,  and  baseness. 


58  DAUGHTERS   OF   DAWN 

Seeking  the  truth  as  one  who  climbs  the  stairs 
Within  a  tower  of  outlook,  while  in  all  things 
Serving  his  fellows  with  illumined  mind, — 
However  slowly,  shall  escape  from  darkness. 
And  all  the  weight  of  sorrow  leave  behind. 

For  this  I  waited  underneath  the  Bo-tree, 
Keeping  stern  vigil  through  the  holy  night. 
Until  Truth  dawned,  as  I  beheld  the  snow-peaks 
Flushed  with  a  tender  glory  height  on  height. 

Buddha  rises  and  paces  to  and  fro,  while 
IZEYL  remains  seated.  . 

And  yet  the  doubt  comes — what  avails  the 
watching 

Above  the  world  In  unlmpassioned  calm? 

Do  they  not  sometimes  long,  those  soaring  sum- 
mits. 

To  wear  the  valley's  wealth  of  bloom  and 
balm? 

Ah,  not  alone  thy  beauty  moves  my  senses. 
But  the  fair  soul  within  thee  calls  my  soul. 
My  manhood  strains  at  touch  of  joy  so  tender 
To  lay  aside  the  austere  staff  and  bowl. 


DAUGHTERS  OF  DAWN  59 

The  servant  of  the  gate  enters  and  hows  he- 
fore  IzEYL. 

Servant 

Protectress  of  the  weak,  the  poor  in  throngs 
Are  crowding  at  the  gate  to  lay  their  wrongs 
Before  the  Holy  One,  their  woes  and  wants. 
Shall  I  give  dole  as  unto  mendicants? 

IzEYL,  rising 

Nay,  I  myself  will  give,  who  have  this  day 
Received  the  wealth  that  passes  not  away. 
Let  them  be  fed.    Take  these,  and  these,  and 
these, — 

She  pulls  off  her  gold  and  jewelled  ornaments 
and  gives  them  to  the  servant,  her  women 
at  the  same  time  removing  her  anklets. 

And  all  I  have  for  their  necessities. 

Turn  gold  and  gems  to  bread  that  men  may 

live. 
There  still  Is  more, — I  have  my  life  to  give. 
Go,  tell  them  that  Izeyl  became  to-night 
A  follower  of  Buddha  and  the  light. 


6o  DAUGHTERS   OF  DAWN 

The  servant  goes  out  and  Izeyl  turns  to 
Buddha. 

'  Now  the  undetermined  way  to  perfection  waits 
us  still, — 

Thou  the  sun  upon  the  height,  I  the  mist  below 
the  hill! 

So,  dear  Lord,  the  play  is  done,  as  the  moon 
begins  to  fail. 

And  thy  worshipper  departs.  Thou  shalt  see 
no  more  Izeyl. 

This,  that  was  my  house  and  park,  for  thy  shel- 
ter is  bestowed. 

Love's  provision  for  thy  peace  when  a-weary 
of  the  road. 

She  claps  her  hands,  and  her  attendants  come 
forward,  with  the  servant  of  the  gate,  to 
wait  upon  her  departure, 

Buddha 

Thou  wondrous  prodigal,  no  merit  worthy 
Thy  matchless  bounty  have  I,  who  must  pass. 
Like  a  disturbing  wind  among  the  palm-leaves. 
Like  an  unresting  shadow  from  the  grass. 
But  thy  good  deed,  like  a  reviving  perfume. 


"O   BELOVED    ONE,    FAREWELL" 


DAUGHTERS  OF  DAWN  6 1 

Within  the  memories  of  men  shall  dwell, — 
Inspired  abandon  I  May  the  Perfect  Way 
Requite  thee  I 

IZEYL 

O  beloved  one,  farewell! 

She  goes  out,  accompanied  by  her  two  women, 
who  cover  their  faces  with  their  saris  in 
desolation,  Buddha  is  left  standing  alone 
in  the  growing  darkness. 

Curtain  and  Music 


VI 
MARY 


63 


persons  in  the  scene 

Mary 

The  Angel 

At  the  Tomb 


64 


MARY 


DAUGHTERS   OF   DAWN  65 


MARY 

Prologue 

In  the  brief  peace  of  the  Augustan  Age, 
Three  trends  of  human  headway  checked  their 

course, 
Like  currents  eddying  in  a  tideless  calm. 
Eastern  magnificence  and  mystic  dream, 
Hellenic  learning  and  awakened  art. 

And  Roman  discipline,  all  came  to  halt. 
As  when  unbridled  revellers  at  dawn 
Look  wanly  forth  on  time's  expectant  hush. 
Stilled  of  a  sudden  in  satiety. 
The  ancient  world  of  lust  and  rapine  seemed 

To  pale  with  prescience  of  impending  doom. 
Outside  a  Syrian  rest-house,  with  no  pomp 
Save  glittering  troops  of  stars  relieving  guard, 
A  Prince  of  the  Eternal  Light  was  born, 
Whose  only  ensign  was  a  loving  heart. 

Music 


66  DAUGHTERS   OF   DAWN 


Chorus 

What  spirit  so  white, 
With  eyes  bent  on  the  ground, 
As  though  lost  in  the  plight 
Of  a  sorrow  profound, 
That  tenderness,   faith,   and   devotion  should 
founder  In  death  and  dismay? 

She  lifts  her  worn  face, 
And  the  glory  Is  there, — 
The  mothering  grace. 
The  victorious  care. 
That  have  fostered  the  hope  of  the  ages  and 
prospered  the  world  on  its  way. 

Her  fair  mouth  is  still. 
Her  hands  are  at  rest. 
With  that  power  to  thrill. 
By  the  quiet  possessed. 
When  the  soul  to  Its  lord  Is  surrendered  and 
divinity  swells  In  the  breast. 

O  all  who  have  prayed 
To  the  glorious  son 


DAUGHTERS   OF   DAWN  67 

Of  this  poor  Jewish  maid, 
Since  her  travail  was  done, 
Have  ye  bred  In  your  sons  the  high  courage  to 
be  heroes  of  truth  in  their  day? 

Have  ye  given  brave  thought 
To  bring  beauty  to  birth? 
Have  ye  suffered  and  wrought 
For  the  welfare  of  earth? 
So    your    service    transfigured   to    glory,    like 
Mary's,  shall  not  pass  away. 

A  rocky  place  before  the  sepulchre  of  Christ. 
The  entrance  to  the  tomb  is  on  slightly  rising 
ground  at  the  back,  with  straight  evergreen 
trees  on  either  side.  His  mother  is  seated  on 
a  stone  near  by,  clad  in  white,  with  a  fold  of 
her  garment  over  her  head.  She  scarcely 
moves  until  toward  the  close  of  her  first  speech. 
It  is  just  before  dawn  on  the  morning  of  the 
*  third  day*  after  the  crucifixion. 

Mary 

Lord  of  the  darkness  and  the  broken  heart, 
In  the  still  purple  hour  before  the  sun, 


68  DAUGHTERS   OF  DAWN 

Upon  whose  floor  our  lives  are  sifted  chaff, 

And  through  whose  hands  the  sands  of  ages 

run, 

Thy  will  be  done  I 

Shall  there  be  no  compassion  in  the  night. 
No  heed  nor  hearing  of  our  grievous  doom, 
No  heart  that  feels  the  loneliness  of  ours. 
No  hope  of  tidings  from  the  unknown  tomb 
To  pierce  the  gloom? 

After  the  anguish  of  defeat  and  death, 
Through  boundless  desolation  of  the  years. 
Is  there  no  sign  to  help  us  live  or  die, 
No  touch  to  wipe  away  the  bitter  tears. 
And  quiet  fears? 

Knows  God  the  agony  of  mother  pain 

For  every  sorrow  of  the  son  she  bore? 

Can  any  cry  to  Heaven  bring  again 

The  voice  they  have  entombed,  and  closed  the 

door. 

For  evermore? 

If  mortal  heart  can  bear  the  woe  and  wrong, 
And  still  live  on  in  sorrow  day  by  day, 


DAUGHTERS   OF  DAWN  69 

If  broken  lute  can  lift  a  duteous  song, 
Or  darkened  lamp  still  serve  with  dying  ray, 
Show  thou  the  way  I 


Great  God,  thou  seest  the  path  I  tread  alone, 
Thou  knowest  all  that  has  been  and  shall  be, 
And  all  my  love  of  Him  who  was  thine  own, — 
What  in  thy  mighty  dream  of  destiny 
Am  I  to  thee? 


As  she  closes  her  speech,  she  rises  and  goes 
a  step  or  two  toward  the  tomb,  lifting  im- 
ploring arms  aloft,  the  fold  of  her  robe 
slipping  from  her  head  as  she  does  so.  She 
stands  thus  transfixed  for  a  moment,  facing 
the  sepulchre,  and  then  turns  with  a  look 
of  wonder,  her  arms  still  upstretched,  her 
whole  figure  illumined  in  the  first  rays  of 
the  new  sun,  and  her  face  transfigured  with 
rapture  of  revelation.  From  the  slightly 
higher  ground  she  has  taken,  she  looks 
taller,  too,  than  her  wont;  so  that  passers- 
by  might  think  they  had  seen  an  angel.  She 
speaks  in  a  level  tone. 


70  DAUGHTERS   OF   DAWN 

Mary,  as  The  Angel 
Hail,  Mary  of  Sorrows,  acquainted  with  woe. 
Lift  thy  grief-shadowed  gaze  to  the  light-bear- 
ing sun  I 
Each  quivering  leaf  and  the  dawn  winds  that 

blow 
Breathe  solace  upon  thee;  the  victory's  won; 
Weep  not ! 

Thy  God  holds  thy  hands  as  he  holds  night  and 

day. 
Through  the  rounds  of  his  service,  the  ways 

to  his  ends; 
When  thine  arms  are  weakest,  his  strength  is 

thy  stay. 

Thine  eyes  shall  see  clear  in  the  light  that  he 

sends. 

Fear  not! 

Lift  up  thy  soul  on  the  wings  of  his  voice, 
Be  glad  thou  wert  chosen  to  play  thy  great  part, 
Bid  all  thy  mothering  patience  rejoice. 
Let  the  world  rest  on  the  strength  of  thy  heart ! 
Faint  not! 

Conceived  of  divine  love,  the  rapturous  soul, 
Stainless  as  dew  and  unfearing  as  fire, 


•♦WEEP   NOT!' 


.    DAUGHTERS   OF   DAWN  7 1 

From  hope  unto  hope  as  the  quickened  years 

roll, 

Shall   arise  and  live  on  through  dismay  and* 

desire. 

Aspire  I 

The  God  of  all  good  cannot  waver  nor  sleep. 

Receive  the  sweet  truth  that  shall  lighten  thine 
eyes, 

And  be  thou  the  Angel  earth's  courage  to  keep, 

The  great  Loving-Kindness  that  lights  Para- 
dise! 

Behold! 

Shine    on   through   the    ages    and    arches    of 

heaven. 
For  thine  is  a  glorious  share  in  God's  plan ! 
Unto  thee  from  the  first  to  the  last  has  been 

given 

The  illuming,  the  heartening,  the  moulding  of 

man. 

Rejoice! 

Mary  keeps  her  prophetic  pose  until  the  cur- 
tain  falls. 

Curtain  and  Music 


VII 
ZENOBIA 
zyo  A.  D. 


73 


PERSONS   IN  THE  SCENE 

Zenobia,  Queen  of  Palmyra 

AuRELiAN,  Emperor  of  Rome 

A  Troupe  of  Arab  Dancing  Girls  and  Mu- 
sicians 

Roman  Officers  and  Soldiers,  Litter-bearers, 
Guards,  Attendants,  etc. 


ZENOBIA 


DAUGHTERS  OF  DAWN  75 

ZENOBIA 

Prologue 

Hark!    To  what  sound  like  thunder  far  away 
Do  cities  tremble  and  strong  men  turn  pale? 
They  clutch  the  sword  In  Eastern  palaces, 
They  lift  the  tent-fold  on  Arabian  plains, 
And  start  In  forests  of  wild  Gaul,  to  hear 

The   tramp   of   Roman   legions   through  the 

world. 
Then   through   the   beauty   of   the   star-sown 

night  ^ 

An  angry  glare  upon  the  sky  proclaims 
An  opulent  city  given  to  the  torch 
Of  ruthless  conquerors  on  the  march  to  power. 

Where   once   men   trafficked   In  the   crowded 

streets, 
And  women  chattered  In  the  bright  bazaars. 
While  children  thronged  the  Temple  of  the 

Sun, — 
The  wild  boar  feeds  among  sad  ruined  walls 
Of  great  Palmyra  In  the  desert  sands. 

Music 


76  daughters  of  dawn 

Chorus 

Who  is  this  come,  in  haste 
From  the  crowds  to  be  gone, 
Through  the  Palmyrene  waste, 
While  the  legions  draw  on, 
With  tumult  of  murderous  passions  that  con- 
quering lust  has  released? 

She  sees  at  her  gates 
Roman  standards  unfurled, 
Where  once  vassal  states 
Brought  the  trade  of  the  world, — 
Where  long  caravans  o'er  the  desert  came  in 
from  the  marvellous  East. 

She  stands  like  a  palm 
Aloof  and  unbent. 
With  the  sky's  royal  calm 
For  her  curtain  and  tent. 
Her  loveliness  still  undefeated,  her  regal  devo- 
tion unspent. 

Barbaric  in  splendor, 
Heroic  at  heart. 


DAUGHTERS  OF  DAWN  77 

Undaunted  and  tender, 
She  plays  her  great  part, 
Though  the  reins  of  her  power  are  broken,  the 
days  of  her  empire  have  ceased. 

Her  beauty  still  reigns, 
Though  her  hopes  all  have  died. 
Her  fierce  grandeur  remains, — 
The  Bedouin  pride, — 
Zenobia,  Queen  of  Palmyra,  the  coveted  pearl 
of  the  East. 

In  front  of  Aurelian's  tent  before  Palmyra. 
The  Emperor  is  seated,  surrounded  by  a  few 
of  his  generals  and  officers,  A  troupe  of  Arab 
dancing  girls  and  musicians  run  in  to  dance  for 
him.  Before  the  close  of  their  dance  there  is 
a  stir  outside  and  the  hasty  arrival  of  two  run- 
ners followed  by  a  closed  litter  borne  by  eight 
bearers.  They  set  down  their  burden  and,  as- 
sisted by  guards,  Zenobia  alights  with  one 
woman  in  waiting.  At  sight  of  her  the  danc- 
ing girls  at  once  stop  their  dance  and,  ignoring 
the  Emperor,  run  to  Zenobia,  kneel  before 
her,  and  surround  her  with  every  mark  of  loyal 


78  DAUGHTERS   OF   DAWN 

admiration,  crying,  *Long  life  to  Zenobia!'  As 
AuRELiAN  rises  and  approaches  Zenobia,  a 
trumpet  sounds  and  servants  and  dancers  with- 
draw. 

AURELIAN 

Fortunate  is  this  hour,  indeed  I    Happy  the  day 

for  Rome, 
When  here  unto  Aurelian's  tent  the  Queen  of 

the  East  Is  come! 

Zenobia 
And  dark  for  my  country.  Emperor  I 

AURELIAN 

Nay,  It  had  darker  been. 
Had    not   the    gods    delivered   thee    into    my 
hands,  brave  Queen. 

Zenobia 

Aurellan,  say  not  the  gods  preside  over  a  thing 

so  base 
As  the  treachery  which  betrayed  me  here,  a 

prisoner  before  thy  face. 


DAUGHTERS   OF   DAWN  79 

O,  better  far,  had  my  luckless  star  gone  down 
in  the  dust  of  fight, — 

Had  my  glory  passed  unsoUed  at  last  into  eter- 
nal night! 

And  lordlier  had  thy  legions  shown  above  a 

broken  wall, 
Than  skulking  at  a  traitor's  gate,  let  in  at  a 

scullion's  call. 
Since  when  did  the  Roman  eagles  deign  to  take 

a  reptile's  kill. 
Like  unclean  vultures  swooping  low  and  greedy 

for  their  fill? 

Had  not  black  treason  sold  me  here,  like  a 
Bithynian  slave, 

Palmyra  should  have  been  my  tomb,  her  cita- 
del my  grave. 

Zenobia  would  not  have  lived  to  be  the  spoil 
of  war, — 

To  be  the  Forum's  spectacle,  in  chains  behind 
thy  car. 

Ye  know  the  creed  of  the  desert  breed,  whom 

none  can  bind  nor  bow. 
Rovers  of  earth  by  right  of  birth,  from  the 

dawn  of  time  till  now. 


8o  DAUGHTERS   OF  DAWN 

But  even  the  gods  must  strive  in  vain,  at  war 
with  treachery. 

Their  altar  fires  are  but  the  pyres  of  the  dar- 
ing and  the  free. 

AURELIAN 

You  wrong  the  sons  of  the  Roman  wolf  I  They 
know  the  desert^s  way. 

And  well  they  know  the  proudest  foe  is  a  lion- 
ess at  bay. 

What  evil  councillors  were  thine  to  move  thee 
to  this  war? 

Did  Rome  not  give  you  peace  and  wealth, — 
could  liberty  give  more? 

Have  not  your  laden  caravans  brought  all  the 

world  in  trade 
Up  to  your  gates,  with  none  to  bar  the  roads 

that  Trajan  made? 

Zenobia 

Hear  me,  my  captor!     Had  there  been  upon 

the  Cassars'  throne 
One  like  Aurelian  in  days  past,  this  discord 

had  not  grown. 


DAUGHTERS   OF   DAWN  8 1 

While  puny  tyrants  fought  like  knaves  for  the 
sceptre  fallen  low, 

Was  I  to  be  their  prize  and  fee?  By  the  Im- 
mortals, No  I 

Bred  to  the  freedom  of  the  tents,  born  of  a 

royal  line, 
I  drew  the  tribes  Into  a  Power.    I  made  It.    It 

was  mine. 
Here  out  of  turbulence  and  strife  a  sovereign 

state  I  reared, — 
Palmyra  In  the  Wilderness,  rich,  beautiful,  and 

feared. 

Insolent   Persia   felt  my  will,   even   Imperial 

Rome 
As  empire  unto  empire  In  peace  or  war  must 

come. 
Could  I  lay  by  this  sovereignty  at  a  dictator's 

word? 
.Step  lightly  down  from  throne  and  crown,  and 

join  the  driven  herd? 

Ceasing  to  reign,  I  cease  to  live.     Does  Aure- 

llan  wonder  why? 
Can  a  Caesar  and  a  soldier  ask?    Need  Zeno- 

bla  reply? 


82  DAUGHTERS   OF   DAWN 

Those  poor  dance  girls  with  matted  curls,  that 

clung  about  my  knee, 
Shall  grace  my  lord's  triumphal  march;  but 

what  am  I  to  thee? 

AURELIAN 

Thy  noble  words,  Zenobia,  prove  well  thy  royal 

strain. 
I  do  lament  the  downfall  of  one  so  fit  to  reign. 
Had  not  ambition  duped  thee,  and  thy  guides 

who  counselled  ill, 
Palmyra  had  been  sovereign,   and  thou  her 

ruler  still. 

Let  not  ambition  lure  you,  my  captains,  to  your 

fall. 
Ever  the  overreaching  hand  must  end  by  losing 

all. 
Would  that  this   restless   folly  which   Is   the 

whole  world's  bane 
Might  die  with  me,  uprooted  never  to   rise 

again ! 

Yet  Is  thy  speech  untempered,  great  leader  of 
the  tribes ! 

Unfair  to  Roman  justice,  thy  bitter  grief- 
wrung  jibes. 


DAUGHTERS  OF  DAWN  83 

Believe  the  lonely  desert  shall  forget  the  morn- 
ing star, 

When  Roman  virtue  has  forgot  what  truth  and 
honor  are. 

I  were  myself  a  traitor,  had  I  not  seized  the 

hour 
When  renegade  informers  betrayed  thee  to  our 

power. 
Receive  a  soldier's  tribute  I    Accept  a  Roman's 

word  I 
A  tumult  is  heard  outside,    A  hand  of  unruly 

soldiers  clamoring  for  the  life  of  Zenobia 

A  number  of  officers  hurry  out  immediately 

and  quell  the  disturbance. 
Fear  not  my  wayward  legions.      Thy  guard 

shall  be  my  sword. 

No  safer  wert  thou  ever.    Thou  shalt  go  hence 

to  Rome, — 
There  with  respect  and  honor  be  welcome  and 

at  home. 
And  this  thy  noble  city  with  its  Temple  of  the 

Sun 
Shall  be  preserved  from  pillage.    For  thy  sake 

it  is  done. 


84  DAUGHTERS  OF  DAWN 

Although   thy   rash   advisers   must  pay  their 

folly's  cost; 
Thou  art  no  less  an  empress,  for  an  empire's 

being  lost. 
The  .world  awards  thee  homage ! 

Zenobia 

Magnanimous,  my  foe  I 

AURELIAN 

Thine  Emperor  attends  thee.  The  lictors, 
there!    We  go. 

With  her  last  word  Zenobia  turns  away  to 
enter  her  litter;  hut  as  she  hears  Aurelian 
say  *  Thine  Emperor  attends  thee*  she 
turns  and  looks  into  his  face.  Seeing  that 
he  is  preparing  to  accompany  her  on  foot, 
she  signals  her  hearers  to  follow,  and  walks 
out  by  Aurelian's  side,  hearers  and  at- 
tendants following. 

Curtain  and  Music 


VIII 

JEANNE  D'ARC 

1427  A.  D. 


persons  in  the  scene 

Jeanne  d'Arc 

Jacques  d'Arc,  Her  Father 


JEANNE    D'ARC 


DAUGHTERS   OF   DAWN  87 


JEANNE  D'ARC 

Prologue 

For  a  thousand  years  from  Rome  to  Aglncourt 
Terror  and  darkness  overspread  the  world 
With  superstition,  bigotry,  and  crime, 
While  warring  nations  and  marauding  kings 
Raven  and  slay  and  wither  Into  dust. 

Chivalry  rides  upon  Its  last  crusade, 
And  Learning  slumbers  In  the  Church's  tomb. 
Barons  and  bishops,  emperors  and  serfs, 
Wallow  In  witchcraft,  cruelty,  and  greed, 
As  if  the  angels  had  forgotten  earth. 

Hardly  a  voice  to  keep  God's  name  alive; 
Tin  on  a  summer  morn  In  lovely  France, 
On  the  shadowy  forest  border  of  the  Vosges, 
In  small  Domremy  of  peasant  folk  is  born 
A  Little  Sister  of  the  Nazarene. 

Music 


88  daughters  of  dawn 

Chorus 

Who  remembers  God's  poor 
In  their  humble  attire? 
Yet  In  them  shall  endure 
The  seed  and  the  fire, — 
The  strength  for  fulfilment  of  longings,  and 
faith  for  the  dreaming  of  dreams. 

Who  stands  with  rapt  gaze 
In  a  day-dream,  and  sees, — 
While  her  quiet  sheep  graze 
By  the  tall  poplar  trees, — 
A  shadowy  legion   advancing,    an  army  that 
musters  and  gleams? 

As  a  clear  minster  bell 
Thrills  the  soul  of  the  air, 
Her  voice  lays  a  spell 
O'er  a  realm  in  despair, 
Till  the  laggard  take  arms  at  her  summons, 
assured  that  God's  champion  is  there. 

In  war-harness  bright. 
Through  the  dust  and  the  fray, 


DAUGHTERS   OF   DAWN  89 

With  valor  alight, 
She  forges  her  way, 
Till  her  mission's  victorious  standard  on  the 
wind  above  Orleans  streams. 

No  witchcraft  was  here, — 
Slander  wide  of  the  mark! 
Revelation  shone  clear 
In  the  sainted  Jeanne  d'Arc, — 
A  strain  of  intrepid  conviction,  which  greatly 
foresees  and  redeems. 

Outside  Jacques  d' Arc's  home  in  the  vil- 
lage of  Domremy  on  the  border  of  a  great  for- 
est, Jeanne  stands  leaning  against  a  tree  a 
little  away  from  the  house.  Her  father  sits  on 
a  stone  nearby.  He  is  a  peasant  of  the  soil,  al- 
ready beginning  to  be  old,  and  his  mind  is  on 
the  past.  There  is  a  stream  with  a  few  pol- 
larded willows  leaning  over  it  not  far  away, 
and  sheep  are  grazing  in  the  meadow.  It  is 
near  sundown  on  a  summer  day.  A  large  pale 
moon  is  seen  just  rising  over  the  wood.  Sub- 
dued music  is  faintly  heard  through  Jeanne's 
speeches. 


90  daughters  of  dawn 

Jeanne 

Father,  I  hear  the  voices  now. 
Canst  thou  not  hear  them,  too, — 
There  by  the  forest  edge,  so  clear, 
So  wonderful,  so  true, 
With  sound  as  sweet  as  the  summer  rain 
When  the  little  leaves  are  new? 

Her  Father 

Ay,  lass,  I  hear.    'Twill  be  the  wind 

Talking  among  the  trees. 

'Tis  like  a  human  voice,  the  wind, 

Full  of  old  melodies. 

It  minds  me  of  the  night  I  took 

Thy  mother  on  my  knees. 

Jeanne 

Father,  I  cannot  mind  my  work, 

The  voices  call  me  so; 

They  call  me  at  the  dead  of  noon 

When  all  the  winds  are  low. 

And  when  the  golden  dawn  comes  up 

With  not  a  breath  to  blow. 


DAUGHTERS   OF   DAWN  9 1 

I  hear  them  while  I  turn  my  wheel, 
And  while  I  tend  my  sheep; 
I  hear  them  In  the  dewy  dusk 
When  I  He  down  to  sleep; 
And  even  at  the  Holy  Mass 
My  mind  I  cannot  keep. 

They  call  and  call,  *Jehan,  Jehan, 

Thy  harried  country  save !' 

I  hear  them  through  the  music's  sound. 

And  when  the  censers  wave. 

As  the  procession  of  the  Host 

Goes  up  the  minster  nave. 

Her  Father 

Ay,  ay,  I  hear  thee,  lass, — I  hear. 
Thou  mind'st  me  of  my  prime. 
When  I  would  go  across  the  fields 
In  the  eager  summer  time, 
To  court  thy  mother  at  her  wheel, 
Singing  an  eerie  rh)mie. 

She  always  had  the  misty  look 
Of  things  unkenned  and  far; 


92  DAUGHTERS   OF   DAWN 

And  always  fancies  In  her  head 
Of  princes,  rhymes,  and  war, — 
And  how  the  Little  People  dance 
Around  the  evening  star.  .  .  . 

Midsummer  Eve  It  was.     I  mind 
There  was  a  smell  of  bloom; 
Out  of  the  dusk  a  little  wind 
Went  whispering  through  the  room; 
And  all  the  meadow  was  alive 
With  fireflies  In  the  gloom. 

Jeanne 

Father,  I  see  the  Figure  now. 
'TIs  St.  Michael  with  his  sword, 
And  a  great  white  shield  on  his  arm. 
He  marches  to  award 
Her  rightful  victory  to  France, 
And  I  can  hear  his  word. 

Her  Father 

It  Is  the  great  shield  of  the  moon 
That  Is  so  bright  and  round. 
It  is  the  mist  from  off  the  stream. 
That  moves  along  the  ground. 


DAUGHTERS   OF   DAWN  93 

As  quiet  as  a  churchyard  ghost 
That  never  makes  a  sound. 


Jeanne 

'And  there  Is  Merlin  In  his  cloak 
Who  comes  to  counsel  me, 
That  since  a  wanton  ruined  France, 
A  maid  must  set  her  free. 
*Jehan,  rejoice,  God's  holy  choice 
Has  fallen  on  DomremyP 

Her  Father 

'TIs  but  the  crooked  willow  bole, 

That  leans  across  the  brook. 

The  long  grey  moss  Is  like  a  beard. 

He  has  an  ancient  look. 

IVe  often  marked  him  leaning  there, 

Like  a  shepherd  on  his  crook. 

Jeanne 

Father,  I  see  our  banners  pass; 
The  horses  strain  and  neigh; 
Our  men  at  arms  In  cavalcade. 
And  knights  In  war  array. 


94  DAUGHTERS  OF  DAWN 

And  kings  and  squires  with  commoners 
Are  hasting  to  the  fray. 

And  at  their  head  In  whitest  mall, 
A  standard  In  her  hand, 
Whereon  the  Virgin  sits  enthroned 
And  fair  white  lilies  stand, 
Rides  thy  Jehan,  for  serving  man, 
To  free  her  luckless  land. 

Rank  upon  rank  with  dust  and  clank 

The  fuming  chargers  go. 

Our  halberds  gleam,  our  pennons  stream, 

The  level  spears  are  low, 

On  helm  and  lance  the  sunbeams  dance. 

I  would  I  need  not  go  I 

Her  Father 

Ay,  ay !    Thy  mother  had  these  flights. 
I  mind  her  fancies  well. 
Sometimes  she'd  hear  a  cry  for  help, 
Times  an  alarum  bell. 
And  times  in  the  half-dusk  she'd  see 
Strange  sights  she  would  not  tell. 


I    WOULD    I    NEED    NOT   GO! 


DAUGHTERS   OF  DAWN  95 

I  mind  the  night  I  brought  her  home 
They  seemed  to  vex  her  sore. 
She  had  a  fey  look  on  her  face, 
When  I  led  her  through  the  door. 
But  when  the  good  God  sent  thee  down, 
Ghosts  troubled  her  no  more. 

When  thou  art  wed  and  far  this  place, 
'Twin  mend,  my  lass,  'twill  mend, — 
When  thou  hast  daughters  by  the  hand. 
And  a  man-child  to  tend! 
For  God  himself  sets  store  by  love, 
And  love  is  dreamlng's  end. 

Jeanne 

Father,  you  do  not  understand. 

The  only  love  I  ask 

Is  Christ  and  his  dear  Mother's  love. 

To  aid  me  in  my  task. 

And  send  the  French  swords  ringing  down 

Through  English  shield  and  casque. 

So  I  must  seek  my  lord  the  King, 
And  be  his  counsellor, — 
Tell  him  the  angel's  messages 


g6  DAUGHTERS   OF   DAWN 

That  bid  him  forth  to  war. 

And  I  must  ride,  as  his  maiden  guide, 

Though  I  should  die  therefor. 

The  voices  of  the  ancient  wood 

Have  put  the  power  on  me. 

The  angels  summon  Jehan  d'Arc 

To  serve  God's  destiny. 

For  pity  on  the  realm  of  France.  .  .  . 

But  what  am  I  to  thee? 

Jt  this  the  old  man  rises  from  his  seat.    It  is 
his  only  sign  of  feeling  so  far. 

Her  Father 

How  should  a  maid  go  to  the  wars, 

With  rough-shod  men  to  ride? 

Be  there  no  captains  near  the  King, 

To  counsel  and  to  guide? 

Is  there  no  doubt  of  this  thy  call? 

Must  we  this  ill  abide? 

What  dost  thou  say?    What  art  to  me? 
My  own  lass !    God  thee  keep !  .  .  . 

Embracing  her,  he  turns  to  brush  away  tears. 


DAUGHTERS   OF  DAWN  97 

It  Is  the  mist  among  the  trees. 
Go  now  and  fold  thy  sheep  I  .  .  . 

He  sits  wearily. 
It  is  the  mist  upon  the  plain. 
I  am  weary  unto  sleep  I 

His  head  sinks  forward  on  his  breast.  His 
hands  lie  idle.  In  the  fading  daylight 
Jeanne  stands  gazing  into  the  dusk. 

Curtain  and  Music 


IX 

VITTORIA  COLONNA 
1535  A.  D. 


PERSONS   IN   THE   SCENE 
VlTTORIA  COLONNA 

Michelangelo 
Two  Ladles 


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VITTORIA    COLONNA 


DAUGHTERS   OF  DAWN  lOI 

VITTORIA  COLONNA 

Prologue 

When  rash  Columbus  sailed  Into  the  West 
Following  the  sun  beyond  the  unknown  seas, 
And   beached   his   prows    upon    a    fair   New 

World, 
Another  realm  was  rising  from  the  deeps 
Of  troubled  faith  and  mediaeval  night. 

In  the  glad  morning  of  the  Renaissance, 
After  long  sleep,  the  holy  spirit  of  man 
Awoke  once  more  to  learning,  freedom,  art. 
Out  of  decrepit  creeds  belief  arose 
To  seek  more  seemly  garments  for  the  soul. 

Erasmus,  Luther,  Raphael  and  the  rest, 
Would  build  again  in  the  sun  of  natural  joy 
The  House  of  Life  long  mouldering  in  the 

shade. 
And  who  now  should  the  master  builder  be, 
But  the  fiery  seraph,  Michelangelo  ? 

Music 


I02  DAUGHTERS   OF   DAWN 

f 

Chorus 

Who  stands  in  the  sun 
By  the  dark  cypress  wall, 
In  scarlet  and  dun, 
Where  the  autumn  leaves  fall, — 
In  a  halo  of  shining  hair,  like  a  missal  saint 
aureoled? 

Is  she  empress  or  queen, 
With  that  confident  heart, 
And  her  robes'  silken  sheen 
As  they  flutter  and  part? 
What  wrong  would  not  right  in  her  presence? 
What  eye  could  its  homage  withhold? 

Her  rare  jewels  glance. 
Her  linked  girdle  slips. 
With  each  turn  of  the  dance 
To  flash  and  eclipse. 
As  she  moves  through  an  eloquent  measure, 
with  an  old  Latin  song  on  her  lips. 

Her  eyes  have  the  light 
Of  the  knowledge  of  truth. 


DAUGHTERS   OF   DAWN  IO3 

As  ancient  as  night, 
As  guileless  as  youth, 
And  glad  as  the  rose-lidded  morning  new-risen, 
yet  centuries  old. 

What  gift  could  Time  bring 
To  Learning's  Re-blrth, 
As  welcome  as  spring 
When  It  visits  the  earth? 
One   flower,   Vlttoria   Colonna,   red  lily  with 
deep  heart  of  gold! 

A  secluded  part  of  the  gardens  of  the  Co- 
lonna Palace  in  Rome,  a  square  of  smooth 
green  turf  surrounded  by  a  tall  clipped  cypress 
hedge.  There  is  a  flat  marble  bench  at  the 
back,  and  a  bushy  golden-tipped  cedar,  about 
three  feet  high,  in  each  corner  of  the  enclosure. 
There  is  only  one  entrance  through  the  hedge, 
at  the  left,  guarded  on  either  side  by  two  ter- 
mini, antique  marble  posts  with  sculptured 
heads,  a  Pan  on  the  left,  a  Hermes  on  the 
right.  As  the  curtain  rises  Vittoria  Colonna 
is  discovered,  moving  through  a  slow  ballade, 
and  singing  a  Mediaval  Latin  student  song  as 
an  accompaniment.     Two  companions,  or  serV' 


104  DAUGHTERS   OF   DAWN 

ing  women,  stand  by,  an  appreciative  audience 
of  her  performance. 

Song 

When  the  pear  tree  comes  in  flower, 
Cold  and  grief  are  gone  away, 
Love  and  gladness  have  their  hour. 
Amor  vincit  omnia/ 

When  the  leaves  begin  to  fall. 
Youth  and  spring  have  had  their  day, 
Why  should  lovers  fear  at  all? 
Amor  vincit  omnia! 

As  she  begins  the  second  stanza,  a  man^s 
voice  is  heard  outside  joining  in  the  song.  The 
women  smile,  as  if  not  surprised,  and  presently 
there  enters  one  who  is  evidently  a  welcome 
and  accustomed  guest  of  the  house.  It  is 
Michelangelo.  As  he  comes  in,  without  in- 
terrupting the  dance,  he  smiles  and  bows  in 
courteous  mock-stilted  salutation,  and  takes  his 
stand  by  the  Hermes  until  the  stanza  is  fin- 
ished. Then  he  advances,  and  as  he  takes  VlT- 
TORIA  Colonna's  hand,  leads  her  to  the  bench. 


DAUGHTERS  OF   DAWN  105 

She  sits  at  one  end  of  the  seat,  while  he  remains 
standing  near  the  other.  The  waiting  women 
retire.  It  is  afternoon  of  a  warm,  still  day  in 
autumn. 


VlTTORIA  COLONNA 

Did  they  dance  such  things  in  Florence, 

In  that  Medicean  garden, 

Where  magnificent  Lorenzo 

Crowned  your  toil  with  praise  or  pardon? 

When  that  young  faun's  head  you  fashioned, 

Was  his  voice  enough  to  fire  you? 

Were  there  not  within  the  cloister 

Other  accents  to  inspire  you? 

Buonarroti,  how  this  New  Life, 

Just  as  every  hope  seemed  ended, 

Breaking  on  us  like  a  vision. 

Makes  the  old  more  rich  and  splendid! — - 

As,  how  often  at  the  casement 

I  have  watched  through  storm  and  thunder, 

Till  at  last  the  sudden  rain  ceased 

And  the  sun  showed  Rome  in  wonder  I 


I06  DAUGHTERS   OF   DAWN 

So  when  all  our  age  seemed  darkest, 
Faith  extinguished,  culture  perished. 
Comes  a  Renaissance  of  Knowledge, 
Freeing  all  the  dreams  we  cherished. 
All  the  lore  of  buried  Hellas 
Brought  to  light  for  our  illuming! 
On  old  altars  reared  to  Beauty 
Burn  once  more  the  fires  consuming! 

Who  can  walk  unmoved  through  Florence, 
Where  each  corner  shows  a  palace? 
Who  but  must  learn  adoration 
From  the  chasing  on  the  chalice? 
Who  could  meanly  live,  with  Dante 
Ringing  through  his  soul's  dim  portals? 
Or  be  sad  where  Lippo  Lippi 
Paints  the  teeming  life  of  mortals. 

What  if  here,  as  once  in  Athens, 
Women  now  should  lift  the  story 
Of  our  race  from  prose  to  epic. 
With  new  freedom,  grace,  and  glory ! 
We  should  walk  the  world  like  morning 
On  the  hill-tops  dark  and  olden, 
When  the  sombre  peaks  of  purple 
Glow  transfigured  fresh  and  golden; 


DAUGHTERS   OF   DAWN  IO7 

Sane  and  lofty  as  Athene, 

Yet  with  laughter,  fire,  and  daring; 

And  deep-bosomed  as  Demeter 

When  she  had  the  earth  In  caring. 

So  shall  time's  victorious  children 

Reach  the  height  and  pass  the  portal 

Of  that  majesty  of  beauty 

Thou  hast  Imaged — more  than  mortal. 

All  thy  life  long,  Mich  el  angel. 
Thou  hast  fought  the  dull  and  downward, — 
Followed  only  where  truth  pointed. 
While  the  many  trailed  renownward. 
Where  great  arches  lift  to  heaven 
The  dumb  heart  of  the  observer, 
Caught  In  color,  pressed  In  marble. 
Live  thy  dreams,  thy  faith,  thy  fervor. 

All  that  thou  hast  wrought  of  beauty. 
Framed  or  fashioned,  In  the  hour 
Of  God's  counsel,  stands  forever 
To  uplift  this  world  with  power. 
Strong  old  prophets,  wise  young  princes, 
Moses,  David,  dear  Madonna, 
All  In  thy  great  heart  have  portion. 
What  am  I  to  thee? 


i08  daughters  of  dawn 

Michelangelo 

Colonna  I 
Never  that  note  of  despairing  sadness, 
Of  human  tears  and  sublime  regret! 
Keep  ever  thy  voice  of  seraph's  gladness, 
Lest  time  should  lose  and  the  world  forget 
The  image  of  joy  no  man  can  measure, — 
Transcending  nature,  surpassing  art, — 
The  eternal  dream,  the  immortal  treasure, 
The  flower  that  blows  in  a  woman's  heart  I 

Here  stand  we,  while  the  great  sky  arches 

Blue  over  Rome,  triumphal,  sheer; 

And     Autumn     with    banner    and    vestment 

marches 
In  festal  pomp  for  the  dying  year. 
What  is  this  earth  but  a  minster  old 
The  wind  like  a  crowding  organ  fills. 
Where  the  sun  swings  up  like  a  censer  of  gold 
Before  the  high  altar  of  the  hills?     .     .     . 

Suppose  from  out  of  the  world  somewhere 
Into  a  great  dim  church  should  stray 
An  untaught  urchin,  unaware 


DAUGHTERS   OF   DAWN  IO9 

Whose  house  it  Is,  what  It  means  to  pray; 
He  wanders  on  where  the  soaring  nave 
Goes  up  and  up,  and  the  soft  light  falls, 
Where  faded  colors  are  marshalled  brave, 
Row  on  row  o'er  the  choir  stalls. 


The  marble  knights  that  sleep  so  still, 
The  saints  that  stand  In  their  carven  screen, 
The  gargoyles  each  with  a  different  thrill, — 
What  do  the  manifold  marvels  mean? 
And  ever  as  the  wonder  grows. 
Assurance  and  daring  begin  to  fall, 
Until  where  the  great  east  window  glows, 
He  halts  abashed  by  the  chancel  rail. 

And  there  before  the  altar  stands, 
To  steady  the  faint  heart's  come-and-go, 
An  angel  with  lily-laden  hands, 
Smiling  down  on  the  boy  below.     .     .     . 
I  was  that  venturesome  child,  and  thou — 
Who  but  the  angel  great  and  fair, 
With  the  all-seeing  eyes,  the  unanxious  brow. 
The   curved   sweet   mouth,    and  the   luminous 
hair! 


no  DAUGHTERS   OF   DAWN 

As  all  of  a  sudden  the  world  will  glow 
In  the  first  bright  single  shaft  of  dawn, 
Or  the  wonder  of  a  painting  grow 
When  the  scaffold  Is  down  and  the  screen  with- 
drawn, 
I  caught  at  last  the  soul  of  design, 
The  might  of  color,  the  reason  of  form, 
The  magic  of  rhythm  and  melting  line. 
When  you  moved  like  music  alive  and  warm. 

I  saw  where  enchanted  Beauty  slept, 

Like  the  Fairy  Princess,  In  color  and  stone, 

Till  forth  at  the  prayer  of  my  hand  she  leapt 

Into  a  kingdom  long  her  own. 

Onward  I  blundered,  with  heart  uplift. 

To  prove, — the  only  faith  I  knew, — 

That  mould  of  body  reveals  souPs  drift. 

I  dreamed  my  dreams,  and  lo,  they  are  true !  - 

Therefore,  I  say,  regret  no  more! 

Shall   the   strong  man   grieve   for  his   callow 

prime. 
When  autumn  and  triumph  are  at  the  door. 
And  labor  and  love  are  lords  of  time? 


DAUGHTERS   OF   DAWN  III 

Thou  art  the  April  of  Angelo, — 

Thine  untarnished  smiles,  thy  generous  tears  I 

What  does  the  heavenly  lilac  know 

Of  the  falling  leaves  and  the  flying  years? 

This  evergreen  with  golden  tip  I 
Be  that  our  emblem  treasured  fast, 
As  if  to  remind  us,  finger  on  lip,  » 

Endure  and  essay!     Truth  wins  at  last! 
When  the  earth  is  judged  of  good  and  ill. 
And  men  at  the  Mercy  Seat  shall  stand. 
As  I  love  you  now,  I  shall  love  you  still. 
Great  heart,  in  homage  I  kiss  your  hand! 

As  he  bends  over  one  hand,  VlTTORiA  Co- 
LONNA  lays  the  other,  half  playfully,  half  affec- 
tionately, on  his  head,  and,  as  he  rises,  leads 
him  through  a  figure  of  her  ballade,  while  they 
sing  together  a  final  stanza  of  her  song. 

Song 

Let  the  winter  come  with  snow. 
Iron  ground  and  skies  of  grey, — 
What  to  high  hearts,  whether  or  no? 
Amor  vincit  omnia! 


112  DAUGHTERS   OF   DAWN 

With  the  concluding  passage  of  the  dance , 
they  go  out  through  the  high  hedge  hand  in 
hand,  and  the  singing  fades  in  the  distance. 

Curtain  and  Music 


EPILOGUE 

AND 

CLOSING   CHORUS 


PERSONS  IN  THE  EPILOGUE  AND  CLOSING 
CHORUS 

Time 

A   Poet 

Modern   Woman 


DAUGHTERS  OF  DAWN  II5 


EPILOGUE 

Ye  have  beheld  In  art's  transporting  glass 
Some  portion  of  the  pageantry  of  Time 
Moving  across  the  vast  stage  of  the  world, 
And  marked  In  power  and  In  beauty  there 
Wondrous  earth  women  with  the  gift  of  life. 

Indomitable  children  of  the  light, 
Impassioned  with  high  themes  of  endless  good, 
They  bore  the  subtle  and  Immortal  hope, — 
The  magic   seed  that   should   transmute   this 

earth 
Into  a  paradise  where  gods  might  dwell. 

Look  forth  upon  the  modern  world  and  see 
The  same  great  being  passionate  and  fair. 
Charged  with  her  mystic  wisdom  as  of  old. 
Still  championing  the  sorcery  of  love 
And  the  ecstatic  progress  of  the  Soul  I 


Music 


Il6  DAUGHTERS   OF   DAWN 

As  the  curtain  rises  for  the  closing  chorus 
Modern  Woman  is  seen  standing  in  the 
foreground,  with  a  shadowy  multitude  be- 
hind her,  in  which  the  figures  of  ViTTORiA 
CoLONNA,  Jeanne  d'Arc,  Zenobia,  Mary, 
IzEYL,  Sappho,  Balkis,  Deborah,  and  Eve 
can  he  distinguished. 

CLOSING    CHORUS 

Who  is  here  through  the  hush 
Of  the  infinite  past, 
With  the  confident  gush 
Of  spring  come  at  last, 
As  youth  must  arise  from  all  sorrow  to  share 
in  the  triumph  of  earth? 

In  her  hair  the  gold  light 
Of  the  sun  when  day  dies. 
And  the  violet  night 
In  her  dusk-lidded  eyes. 
With  the  freshness  of  dew  in  her  bearing,  and 
morn  in  her  stature  and  girth! 

Her  throat  is  unlaced. 
Her  foot  is  soft-shod; 


DAUGHTERS   OF   DAWN  II7 

She  is  glad  and  free-paced 
As  the  creatures  of  God; 
Her  way  Is  the  path  to  perfection  her  sisters 
of  morning  have  trod. 

With  the  ardor  of  Eve 
And  Zenobla's  pride, 
She  Is  quick  to  believe, 
With  soul  for  her  guide; 
She  could  go  forth  with  Barak  to  battle,  or 
grace  Jehan's  corselet  of  mall. 

Was  Sappho  more  tender, 
Colonna  more  wise? 
Does  Mary  not  lend  her 
Great  motherhood's  guise? 
She  is  soft  with  the  beauty  of  Balkis,  sublime 
with  the  love  of  Izeyl. 

With  solace  and  fire, 
With  dawn  in  her  voice, 
She  lives  to  inspire. 
Companion,  rejoice, — 
A  presence   of  radiant  devotion,   a   spirit  of 
luminous  choice. 


Il8  DAUGHTERS   OF   DAWN 

Have  ye  felt  the  heart  quail 
And  uplift  and  hold  fast, 
At  the  swell  of  the  sail 
As  It  pulls  on  the  mast? 
Even  so  must  the  sway  of  her  being  empower 
the  world  to  the  last. 

Curtain  and  Music 


.C.BERKELEY  LIBRARIES 


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